


get all the sights just right

by fleury



Category: Tiny Meat Gang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 05:41:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19739434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleury/pseuds/fleury
Summary: Cody is barely twelve when he gets his first camera.





	get all the sights just right

**Author's Note:**

> someday i’ll overdose on loving devon spinnler juice but only time will tell, babey!

Cody is barely twelve when he gets his first camera. It’s a heavy weight in his hands. Clunky, odd, with new buttons and the screen is small — very, very small. 

Mom says, “that’s how you start out, yeah? Small.” She has a smile on her face and she touches a hand to Cody’s shoulder in a way that suggests he should test it out, quick and light. 

He’d asked for one last Christmas. His own camera. Because he didn’t like the family one, didn’t like having to share it, and somehow getting his own feels so much better. Getting it to _himself_.

He weighs it in his hand as he steps outside. The world is a solid pink and orange this early in the morning, and Cody points his camera directly at the sunrise.

+

He isn’t good. Not when he first starts out. The first time he picks up his camera, the first time he uses it, the image is shaky and everything is weird and out of focus. 

Cody starts with flowers. 

He runs around taking shots of flowers, _any_ flower. Whatever looks good, whatever‘s got bright colours, anything. Not a lot of the photos are good objectively, but by his standards he loves them. Always geeking out about a snapshot he gets of a butterfly perched on the petal of one of the petunias they have out front, or that field of sunflowers he’d captured, or something, something. 

He’ll run around during breaks at school taking photos of the occasional daisy springing up in the soccer field. Sometimes, he finds a squirrel in a tree, or a bird’s nest. That gets stocked away in his camera, too.

He sees an actual bird once and nearly falls over trying to be quiet enough to get close.

+

He turns sixteen and suddenly, his old camera from a Christmas four years ago isn’t enough. One of the buttons is loose and threatening to come off. The battery drains too, too quick. He thinks he’s good enough to move onto something else. 

His dad tells him to save up for a camera, to be more responsible with his money, because he’s already bought him a phone. Cody huffs and he sticks his camera in a drawer in his room. 

One week goes by. Two. Cody decides to pick up a couple shifts at the convenience store his buddy works at, and he scrapes together minimum wage hour after hour.

+

It’s the boy in his pre-cal class. The boy who’s got dimples under his lips and a birthmark on his waist that Cody can see whenever his shirt rides up. 

It’s a _boy_.

He lets Cody take his picture in the grass. When they’re out on the campus field studying for finals. 

His hair’s a mess, too long and curling against the blades of grass, and he laughs up at Cody when he pulls his camera out of his bag.

It’s new, new, new, and Cody couldn’t wait to use it — this feels. Right. 

He takes a few shots, all different angles he’d learned in class, and Cody asks, “not camera shy?” 

The boy smiles, this soft little thing, and Cody feels it in his chest. He says, “not around you, of course not.” 

His cheeks are pink. Cody sucks in a breath.

Cody knows the guy’s dad is a pastor and he _knows_ they’re just here to study, so he shoves his camera away and opens up a notebook.

+

He deletes the photos that evening, with the ache of guilt lodged deep in his gut. 

His mother says, “you look like you saw a ghost,” as he’s heading outside with his bag slung over his shoulder. She sounds concerned, and Cody just.

“It’s whatever,” he mumbles.

+

He‘s going to major in photography and his father says, “it’s not a real degree if you get it from art classes, you know that, right? This isn’t high school.” And something behind Cody’s eyes stings as he throws his things into a suitcase. He hates it because his father tells him he needs to grow up, says he needs to chase after a real job, and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. 

Later, he throws cold water on his face in an airport bathroom and tries not to think too hard. About anything, really. Not a soul is around to see him do it.

+

He likes it better, somehow. Living alone. It’s better, easier, gives him this feeling in the pit of his stomach that almost perfectly replicates the freedom he’d felt when he picked up his first camera. 

Except. Sure, he has a roommate. Sure, he’s a loudmouth and barely cleans up after himself and _sure_ , Cody wouldn’t be surprised if he hot boxed the entire dorm building, but. He’s cool.

“Dev, please pick your boxers up off the fucking floor,” he groans, scrubbing his face with his hand.

He only gets a cackle in return.

+

Spending all his time in the USA is weird and new and something he doubts he will ever get used to. 

The world is a whole other colour, it’s new and unfamiliar and still untouched territory. He can barely recognize his college campus. 

There are nights he still can’t believe it. And there are nights his father tries to contact him, just to check in. Both times, Cody closes his eyes and drifts to sleep.

+

“How is it?” His mom asks, words excited and lilting through the phone line. Her voice touches Cody’s cheek and curls around his jaw. It’s almost like being home, if he closes his eyes and thinks about it hard enough.

He’s going to be late for class. He just doesn’t want to leave.

“It’s okay,” he says, quick. “I need to go.”

She makes a quiet noise of disappointment. “Oh,” she says, and Cody feels his heart sink. “You pay attention in your classes, alright? No slacking off.”

“I know, ma,” he says, feeling his face colour with embarrassment.

She sends a smacking kiss through the phone and he laughs. 

“And you better be eating real food, none of that ramen, right? Real meals,” she says. “Just tell me if you need extra money.” 

He’s smiling, fond, when he rolls his eyes. “Of course, yeah, I gotta go to class now, alright?”

“And water, too, you’re staying hydrated?” 

“Mom,” he tries again, one last attempt, before she lets him go.

+

Cody walks into their dorm one afternoon and he goes to greet Devon, but — that isn’t Devon in his bed. It’s.

“Oh,” Cody blurts, and tries smiling politely, but his mind’s going a mile a minute. “Hey, I’m. Uh. I’m Cody.”

The guy blinks at him slowly, there’s a textbook open in front of him and Cody just assumes he was studying with Devon. Which is rare, very rare, but. Whatever gets Devon studying. 

“Noel,” he offers, and his smile looks almost ten times as confident as Cody feels. The air gets swept out of his lungs.

“Cool,” he says, too stuttery, too nervous. “You got any idea where Devon is?” 

“Bathroom,” Noel says, then shrugs. “But its been ten minutes so my guess is as good as yours.” 

\+ 

They make friendly conversation until Devon gets back.

Then, Cody tries working on some of his homework without getting repeatedly dragged back into the topic of interest. Via Devon, pretty much.

But Noel keeps offering him these kind smiles and. His homework can wait.

+

He snaps a photo of a bluebird. It soars off the second his camera flashes and Cody huffs out a frustrated breath. 

“Any luck?” He hears from behind him, and turns around to see Noel smiling at him, pleasant. 

Cody feels a warmth spread all through his veins. 

“Can’t even get a bird to sit still, it’s kind of pathetic,” he says, laughing down towards his camera. He kind of likes how being around Noel makes him feel, like he’s being suffocated, his chest tightening and tightening. 

“I’d offer to help, but,” he shrugs. “I don’t really know the first thing about cameras and shit. Barely know how to use one if it’s not attached to my phone, y’know?” 

Cody’s laugh comes from his throat and Noel beams at him like he’s proud of himself. He’s practically glowing. 

“You want me to show you how to get a good picture?” He asks, raising his camera at him.

Noel nods his head yes. He says, “I can’t even remember the last time I touched a camera. I’ll be careful.”

Cody has no idea how to actually deal with the excitement beneath Noel’s voice, but he smiles and pulls his camera up from around his neck.

+

There’s this way Noel‘s gaze goes soft when their eyes meet. When Cody looks towards him after taking a shot of something and Noel’s watching like he’s entranced by him. 

It’s not — it’s not that big of a deal. What Cody does. He just takes pictures. He’s only doing what he knows how to do, and Noel watches like he’s laying the stars in the sky. Like Cody, personally, hung the moon.

Their fingers brush sometimes, when Cody’s showing him a photo on his camera. And Noel will be in awe like its beautiful, like he’s never seen anything like it, and Cody flushes when he pulls back. 

He always says, “it’s just angles and lighting,” but there’s a fire crackling in his stomach each time. 

+

He says, one afternoon, “you should come back to my place.” 

He’s staring up at the rustling leaves of the tree they’re sitting under, and he only realizes two seconds later that it sounds a lot like he’s trying for something else.

Noel opens his mouth and Cody interjects with, “I mean, I did some editing on the photos you took a while back. I think you should see them.”

“Oh, god,” Noel laughs out. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

Cody sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, leaning back against the trunk of the tree. He didn’t, really. He didn’t need to spend the time transferring the photos to his laptop and edit them like a fucking nerd, but he did. And he likes them. 

His ears are hot when he says, “they’re really good, I swear. You killed it, should probably switch majors.” 

Noel scoffs, but he goes along with Cody anyways.

+

Devon isn’t home. 

Cody never knows where he is at least eighty percent of the time. The room is clean, surprisingly, and Cody looks to Noel. 

“You can, um, you can sit down. I’ll just grab my laptop,” he offers, and Noel nods.

Two seconds later he’s got him on his bed and Cody doesn’t even wanna turn around to see it. He breathes in, sharp and harsh like a slap to the face, and fetches his laptop from his bag. 

“They really weren’t bad to begin with,” he insists, taking the empty spot next to Noel. There’s an inch of space between them, but who’s really counting. “Just needed a little colouring, made ‘em nice and pretty.” 

“So you’re telling me you made them look better than they already did, huh?” Noel grins.

“Added a top coat to the Mona Lisa, basically,” he tells him, powering on his laptop. 

Cody has to use every inch of his being to will down the urge to laugh and reach out to shove him, something kind and friendly, but his stomach flips at the idea of it. 

Noel knocks their shoulders together, still.

+

“You see this?” Cody points to sunlight hitting each and every petal of a beautifully orange pansy. He glances over to Noel, who’s got his eyes fixed to the laptop screen.

He’s so attentive. He’s just. So.

“Uhuh,” Noel says. 

“This was a little duller before Photoshop beat its shit in,” Cody explains, and scrolls back to find the original image. “It’s not — dishonest. It’s just screwing the truth.” 

“ _Wow_ ,” Noel says, and then, “so everyone in the photography industry is a liar.” 

Cody does knock his elbow against Noel’s ribs this time, and that punches a laugh out of him. 

“We do what we gotta do to put dinner on the table, you know what I’m saying?”

“I’m kidding,” Noel says, kind, and he smiles. It’s a very nice smile. “You’re good at that, y’know.” 

Cody looks down at his hands and he swears there are butterflies knocking against the inside of his stomach. His heart flutters. 

“It’s just simple stuff,” he insists, but he likes the warmth under his skin. He likes it a lot.

+

They’re back beneath the shade of the tree they always find themselves underneath. Noel’s lying next to him with his eyes following the branches of the old oak. Cody’s camera is heavy against his own neck.

The tree waves at them.

Noel looks dazed out, tired, and he blinks slowly when he does. When Cody starts speaking and his gaze falls on him. It’s this rounded out look. Something gentle. 

Cody takes a picture of him like that, and that seems to snap him out of it. 

He smiles. “That’s not fair,” he says, good-natured. “You caught me off guard.”

“That’s where some of the best photography comes from,” Cody insists, and leans back against the tree trunk.

He pulls the picture up on the camera screen and — it’s Noel. Looking peaceful and happy and so, so beautiful. If anything, he looks like the sun.

Cody can’t breathe.

+

Noel keeps popping up in every aspect of his life. Here and there. There and here. And Cody is stuck to him like glue the second he gets the opportunity.

It’s just. The issue with being attached to someone at the hip is having to worry about the rest of them.

\+ 

“Okay,” Cody says into his phone. And, “okay,” and, “okay,” and, “no, I’m not coming home for Christmas.” 

Noel watches him with these sad eyes from his bed. They’re in Noel’s room this time and when his phone went off with _dad_ shining bright on the screen, he couldn’t just ignore the call. Not in front of Noel.

“Bye,” Cody says, and he feels everything leave him all at once. He hangs up the phone and he doesn’t feel bad. 

He makes a mental note to text his sister, tell his mother he’s sorry.

He makes a mental note to buy them both Christmas presents. 

“Are you —“ Noel starts. Stops. He twists his mouth to the side. “You wanna talk about that?” 

Cody scratches the back of his neck and puts his phone on silent. “It’s. It’s whatever.”

They don’t talk about it again, but Noel is closer to him. He puts an arm around Cody’s shoulders. And Cody thinks he can feel fine.

+

“You want?” Devon asks, waving his Juul in Cody’s face, and Cody rolls his eyes. Their room smells like blue raspberry.

“Why are you five years old,” he asks. Straight faced and all.

Devon cheeses at him, full toothy grin. “You’re not slick.”

+

“You clipped a new photo to your lights,” Noel says, practically the second he steps within a foot of Cody’s side of the dorm.

Cody shrugs, sheepish.

It’s a picture of both of them making dumb faces and throwing peace signs at the camera. Noel’s got his tongue out. 

“Needed something extra. This fit,” Cody says.

Noel meets his eyes and looks away. He’s smiling.

+

The sun is harsh on the back of his neck but he’s as still as he can be. Quiet. Patient. 

He finally gets that picture of a bluebird, and Noel cheers the second it flies off. 

“Only took a couple weeks,” he offers, enthusiasm woven into his voice, and Cody scoffs because that sounds _terrible_.

“Bad luck with birds,” he tries. Last time he’d gotten a good angle on a robin, some guy had sent a football flying right his way. That ended. Bad.

“C’mon, let’s see the photo,” Noel says, excitedly tapping Cody’s shoulder. 

And. Cody’s proud of it. So he shows off the photo and Noel’s got stars in his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” he says.

Cody’s looking right back at him when he says, “it really is.”

+

There are times between them when Cody’s thought about kissing him. Just to try it out, to see how it works, to test the waters. 

Noel’s chill, he seems cool, like he wouldn’t mind. But there’s so much fear that creeps up the back of his spine whenever he goes to do it. These poisonous _what if_ ’s and _maybe_ ’s, and Cody just can’t. 

But.

It’s under moonlight. When it happens

Under the quiet whisper of stardust and the chilly evening breeze that Noel puts a hand on the side of his neck and kisses him. 

He’s got Cody’s camera in his hand, right after taking a shot of the moon, and Cody doesn’t have enough self-restraint to keep from melting against him. Against his lips. Losing himself and all his rational thoughts. 

It’s good. It’s so good. 

The spray of sprinklers catches the back of his head and still, he’s stuck going in for another kiss, and another, and he doesn’t pull back until Noel smiles against his lips. 

“We should go back to your room,” he says, and clears his throat. “To, uh, render the pictures.” 

“Yeah,” Cody agrees, and his cheeks hurt from smiling. He’s drunk on the feeling. “To render the pictures.”

+

The bed is soft underneath him and Noel’s mouth is warm against his. Cody sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and Noel makes this quiet sound between them.

“The pictures,” he says, right into the gap between their lips, and his hand is underneath Cody’s shirt. It’s big and warm and Cody can feel his muscles jumping beneath every touch. 

“You’re fucking kidding,” he says, and slings his arms around Noel’s neck. His camera is somewhere far away on a side table and Cody doesn’t need to worry about that right now.

“You got me,” Noel jokes, and he goes in for another kiss.


End file.
